Drabble One: Lather Rinse Repeat
by lemondrops154
Summary: D/H slash.. Shady encounters in dark classrooms.. Total smut! One shot.


Disclaimer: The standard. Don't own anything. Etc. Etc.

A/N: My first attempt at a fanfic. Of course it's total smut! Onwards! :)

Warning: Drarry Slash. Don't like, don't read.

**Drabble One: Lather. Rinse. Repeat.**

Draco doesn't want to think about. About any of it. Not really. He isn't sure he'll be able to justify his actions to himself if he examines them too closely. So he doesn't.

He simply puts those thoughts aside for the moment, tunes out the voices in his head clamoring for his attention and tightens his hold on the dark locks in his hand. He jerks them back with suppressed violence as he slants his mouth against deliciously full lips at a better angle and deepens the kiss.

The lithe body he has pressed firmly into the wall moans and arches up into him and hands fist in the back of his shirt. He can feel the addictive heat seeping right into his muscles as they melt into the embrace.

Twin groans rattle in their throats as their groins ground together. He can feel the leaking wetness soaking into the front of his jeans.

His knuckles press into the rough stone of the castle wall as he pushes forward and licks ever inch of the delectable mouth under him. Their tongues wrestle. Warm. Wet. Stroking. Stroking. Teeth clink as he further deepens the kiss.

Quite reluctantly he lets go of the perfectly shaped cheeks he has been massaging through the jeans and moving back, brings his hand around to the front. He pops the button and yanks the zip down.

Wrenching himself away, he breaks the kiss and takes a step back.

"Off." His voice is steady, even. Despite the fact that he is panting heavily.

Languid green eyes flutter open to meet his, somehow all the more intense for the lack of the barrier that glasses usually provide. Draco suspects that more of the world would worship this boy - this man – than they did already if they only were subject to his unguarded gaze as he is at the moment.

Slowly, hands move to the top of the shirt, unbuttoning with slightly unsteady fingers. Draco crosses his arms to prevent himself from helping. He is not going to help. He is going to stand there and watch. Like he always has. Like he tauntingly had done the first time they had done this. Somehow the shock of watching that pale flawless skin reveal itself inch by inch hasn't worn off. Even still. Especially Still.

The supple hands finish with the buttons but leave the shirt in place gaping open. Draco watches as shoes and socks are next to go. Then the jeans and pants in one swift shimmy that's becoming achingly familiar.

His mouth watered as he stares at other things that are achingly familiar by now, jutting proudly from a nest of dark curls. He moves forward then. Just like he did that first time. Just like he does always.

He slips his hands under the shirt at the shoulders and pushes it down, skimming his hands in a caress.

Over the shoulder and down those muscled, well-formed arms until the shirt is pooling on the ground.

And back up the arms. Over the shoulders. Down that glorious chest. Around the waist. Until his hands are cupping two perfectly formed cheeks again, without the hindrance of jeans in the way this time.

He continues massaging, kneading and squeezing with strong fingers as he feels hands at his waist.

Unbuttoning his jeans and pushing the material down so that they slip to his knees. He can feel the cool night air on his throbbing cock.

He snaps his hips forward then, eliciting groans from both of them as heat meets heat. And just like that the frantic urgency that has been shimmering under the surface ever since he'd interrupted their kiss was back. They're rutting against each other, their hands pressing each into the other, as close as possible, lips locked, tongues laving each other's mouths.

And then Draco's pressing him back into the wall. Arms lock around Draco's neck, hands fisting in his shirt. Draco bends slightly at the knees and lifts him up under the thighs. The same eager thighs wrap around his hips, heels pressing urgently into the back of his legs.

Draco moves his hands higher to support the lower back as the tip of his weeping cock nudges his hot entrance.

He breaks off the kiss and rests his forehead against another just as sweaty as his own and stares into mesmerizing green eyes from an inch away, their lips brushing with each panting breath, chests heaving.

He tightens his grip then and pushes forward into that warm, enveloping heat in one smooth motion, silencing a groan with his lips.

They remain frozen like that for what feels like an eternity, breaths mingling, staring into each other's eyes.

Draco's arms fit around him, just so. The thighs wrapped around his hips tightened, just so. The hands clutch the back of his shirt, just so. The tight heat stretches around his cock, just so.

When he finally blinks, he growls just the one word in a harsh whisper against Draco's lips. "Move."

So he does.

Draco slips in and out with practiced ease. He allows his hands to roam where they will. He licks and nips every inch of bare skin he can reach in their current position. He pants against a warm salty shoulder as an avalanche of desire builds inside him, higher and higher, threatening to sweep him away.

But not yet. Not without -

He listens to the harsh gasps and muffled moans emanating from the body writhing against him. So close. He grips hard and twists his hips as he thrusts at what he knows is the perfect angle.

Once. Twice. Thrice. And with a strangled gasp there is sticky warmth splashing across his stomach in spurts and the tight heat clenching around him.

He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his forehead onto a sweaty shoulder, thrusting faster, harder. Now.

Now he can -

The avalanche sweeps through him as he strangles his own gasp, fingers clenching desperately, knees wobbling dangerously.

Slowly the spots dancing in front of his eyes fade. His breathing evens out. The hands clenched in his shirt relax. The thighs clasped around his hips release their hold, legs slowly sliding to find purchase on the ground again as he slips out with a soft pop.

Draco raises his head and opens his eyes. Keeping his eyes open, maintaining that stare between them, he leans forward and presses his lips in an open mouthed kiss against swollen red ones. Swiping his tongue across them one last time, he take a shuffling step backwards, casts a quick cleaning charm and pulls up his jeans from around his ankles.

Fully clothed, he takes one last look at a thoroughly debauched green-eyed, messy haired delight who hasn't bothered to try and dress himself just yet. All those pesky voices with their questions are starting to crowd in again now he doesn't have something to distract him. So he turns around and leaves.

Just like he had that first time. Just like he has every other time since then.


End file.
